52 Words for Snow
by yukisana
Summary: Sanada had always loved the snow. But it came to occupy a special place in his heart after he met someone life-changing on a snowy day many years ago. Slight ALPHA PAIR.


**A Prince of Tennis fanfic. One-shot.  
SanaYuki pairing a.k.a. alpha pair**

**Story:** 52 Words for Snow

**Rating:** K+

**Disclaimer:** Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi Takeshi.

**Author's note:** It's been a long time! Recently my love for PoT and Alpha Pair has ignited for some unknown reason, so hopefully there'll be a few more fanfics on the way. It's been 4 years since I started writing fanfics and it's been quite a while since my last fanfic – since then, many things have changed and I've grown up a little (just a little). So subconsciously, my style and themes may have changed… but nonetheless, my love for Alpha Pair burns brightly still!

I also apologise if I haven't been replying to reviews and personal messages – I was on a complete hiatus and I did not use my ff email address. But I'm back and I shall be replying once again!

**Dedication:** To everyone who's still following my stories – your support means a lot!

**Please leave a review!**

* * *

They say there are fifty-two Eskimo words for 'snow' because of its importance. That was ridiculous, of course – Eskimo was not even a language. Sanada had never experienced such sentiments that gave him an impulse to invent fifty-two words for snow, though he had always loved snowfall.

It was silent and delicate, its snowflakes so easily crushed and melted in his hands, but it was also powerful, sweeping across the earth, transforming everything in its path into white in the blink of an eye. Sanada sat on the bench facing the tennis court. As expected, there was no one else. He held out his hand and caught a snowflake, staring at it until it dissolved in his hand.

"Amazing, isn't it?"

Sanada reflexively turned to the source of the voice and scowled at the disturber of his peace. But his scowl turned into a confused frown when he saw a small boy leaning against the tree behind him. The boy seemed much younger than himself, his angular face framed by long wavy hair, which, in Sanada's _expert_ opinion, was in dire need of a cut. Sanada could not quite make out the boy's expression for his eyes were mostly covered by his excessively long hair. "What is amazing?" Sanada finally decided to reply – it would seem rude not to and his mother had always been strict with his manners.

"The snow," the boy replied, his voice soft, almost lost to the wind.

Sanada nodded and turned to gaze at the snow again. The boy joined him on the bench, pushing his hair back behind his ear. "Why do you like the snow?" he asked and Sanada met his eyes, slightly taken back by the sharpness of the hazel orbs.

He turned away and mumbled, "Its power."

"I see."

"Do you disagree?" Sanada raised his eyebrows.

"No," the boy smiled before catching a snowflake. He extended his hand towards Sanada, who looked at the small palm with confusion. But before he could ask what he was doing, the boy closed his palm into a firm fist. When he opened it, the snowflake had disappeared. "I like snow because," the boy wiped his palm on his shorts, "without it, you can never appreciate the warmth of spring."

Sanada had never considered snow this way before. _This boy sounds like an old man! And grandfather calls _me_ an old man!_

The boy shivered slightly and stood. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Sanada-kun." As silent as he had arrived, the boy disappeared into the snow, his presence as fleeting as the dancing snowflakes.

Still deep in thought, Sanada did not realise that the boy had left until some time later. He did not remember telling the boy his name.

* * *

Sanada tapped his foot impatiently as he lined up at the registration table. The two boys in front of him were taking forever to fill in their forms. "Good morning, Sanada-kun," a familiar voice sounded behind him.

"Ah, it's you," Sanada turned and saw the boy from the snow. The barber's scissors evidently still had not found their way to his hair, Sanada thought. "I didn't know you played tennis too."

The boy smiled and extended his hand, "Yukimura Seiichi."

"Sanada Genichirou," Sanada took the hand and shook it firmly.

"Oh, I know," Yukimura's lips stretched into a grin, "I heard you are the best in the Under 8s Kanagawa division."

Sanada could not help but smile a little proudly. "I beat an eight year old last year to claim the championship," he said as he filled in his forms.

Yukimura chuckled as he signed his form, "I guess he didn't take it too well, having a six year old beating him."

Sanada smirked, "Not at all."

"I look forward to playing against you, Sanada-kun." Yukimura patted him lightly on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

_Yukimura, eh… Snowy village… _Sanada mused as he stretched, remembering the fleeting snowflakes the day he and Yukimura met.

* * *

"Sa-na-da!"

Sanada was drawn from his reverie by Yukimura's sharp call. "Sorry," he muttered, "I was thinking about something."

"I called your name a hundred times! What were you thinking about?" Yukimura asked, fidgeting with his tennis grip.

"Do you remember the first time we met? It was snowing like this too." Sanada smiled slightly and turned to Yukimura.

Yukimura smiled – the same smile he had the first time they met, when they were children seven years of age. But now the hope and energy behind it was slowly seeping away. "Yes, I remember. And still, it is so delicate, so easily crushed…" He crushed a snowflake in his palm and wiped it on his shorts.

Sanada gazed at Yukimura. The confidence he once was so full of had melted away along with his surgery and defeat. Before he met Yukimura, Sanada never understood the deep sentiments behind the alleged existence of fifty-two words for snow. But now, the memory of snowfall was entangled with his love for Yukimura. Snow… was what bound them together. And, Sanada chuckled as he remembered, for a long while, he had thought that Yukimura's namesake was from the snow rather than the samurai.

Sanada caught a snowflake with his fingertip and presented it to Yukimura. "A single snowflake is fragile indeed," he said softly before putting it on the snow-covered ground, "but collectively, it is an unstoppable force."

He held Yukimura's cold hands in his. "Let us support you, and instead of the snowflake, you can be the blizzard."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a review!**


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